Not So Long Ago (Seems Like Eternity)
by Mozengirl
Summary: All great things start somewhere, and this is the beginning of the greatest partnership in history.


_Madrid, 1504_

Madrid was a city that made Tulio feel small, which in turn made the holes in his shoes feel bigger.

At twelve years old, he was all too aware of his situation: poor, hungry, homeless and pitiful. He didn't care…or at least, not to the point of feeling sorry for himself every second of the day; he saved that feeling for at night.

Fortunately, today was rather profitable: he was able to pocket an apple and an orange from an oblivious vendor, and was enjoying the orange in the corner of an alleyway. He peeled the slices in his dirty hands and ate slowly; the last time he ate too quickly, he threw up.

He recognized the taste of the fruit: sweet and savory, from Seville. He really needed to visit that city someday, if only for the oranges.

He needed money for that.

Tulio sighed, leaning his head against the dusty alley wall. His eyes began to sting.

 _Breathe, Tulio. In, out. Just get through today-that's all you can do right now._

Would he ever be able to do more?

Sighing once more, Tulio took out the apple from his pocket.

At his first bite into the fruit, Tulio heard the distant, lilting notes of a familiar folksong on what sounded like a mandolin. He hadn't heard one of those in a long time.

Music. Music meant entertainment. Entertainment meant people. People meant coin purses.

Tulio hated stealing-not out of moral indignation, but because it required little finesse. Although he wasn't formally educated, Tulio prided himself on his mind and his maturity, both of which he felt went well beyond the standard for children his age. He much preferred manipulation, using his status as a poor homeless child to gain sympathy, food and money from people-although sometimes that didn't work, and he just got spat on.

Pocketing the rest of his apple, Tulio stood up and made his way out of the alley.

The street was bustling with people, but the sound of the mandolin was able to travel well, if faintly. Tulio followed the sound, bumping into people along the way. Through shoutings of "pardon me"'s and "watch it, kid"'s, he made his way down the crowded street to a nearly deserted square where a small group of people had congregated around a fountain. The song ended, and the crowd gave a modest cheer.

Some of the crowd began to disperse, and Tulio was able to catch sight of the musician.

Tulio's eyes widened.

The musician was about his age, and while he had never seen a boy he would consider beautiful before, that was the only word to describe the boy at the fountain: his eyes were large and green, like the emerald pendent Tulio once saw adorn a noblewoman's neck. He had a strong, small nose situated a smile that seemed to grow impossibly big as he began to play another tune. His hair was the color of the pesetas in the cap at his feet: gold.

Tulio continued to take in the other boy as he played: his hands moved graceful and sure over the strings, his golden fringe framing his face. His eyes closed for a moment, clearly lost in the music. Tulio did the same.

The song, like the musician, was gorgeous, played in such a way that made one believe in the soul of the artist; in angels, in Heaven, in God—all the things Tulio stopped believing in two years ago when his mother died.

The song went to a crescendo before coming to a halt. The sound of applause replaced the mandolin, and Tulio opened his eyes to see the crowd dissipating. Soon he was the only one left. By losing himself in the music, he had missed his opportunity to rob.

 _Damn._

Sighing, Tulio began to walk away.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Tulio stopped, turning around to see who had spoken. The only other person left in the square was the musician at the fountain.

"I don't have any money," came Tulio's immediate response.

The other boy frowned. "I just asked if you enjoyed it."

The look of annoyance seemed unnatural on the face that had previously been enraptured in music, so Tulio mended his response. "Yes, you're very talented."

The smile returned to the blond's-to the golden one's-face. "Thanks, I try."

"You don't try, you succeed," Tulio said without thinking. He felt a blush creep up his face that he saw mirrored on the other boy.

"Th…thank you," the golden one responded. He set down his mandolin, came over to Tulio, hand stretched out and smile returning. "Miguel."

 _Miguel-a fitting name._

Tulio took the proffered hand. "Tulio."

As they shook hands, Miguel looked at him with a kind of naïve sincerity that Tulio had never seen before-it made him feel uncomfortable, happy, and unbelievably guilty for what he was about to do.

Using his free hand, Tulio shoved Miguel to the ground, bolted for the cap of pesetas, and ran back down the street.

"Hey, hey come back!" Tulio heard from behind him. No way.

Tulio continued to run, but didn't make it far before getting tackled from behind, plummeting face-first into the cobblestone. He could taste blood as he was grabbed by the shirt collar and turned over onto his back. Miguel was seething above him.

"You jerk, I spent all day earning that!"

Tulio craned his neck to the side to spit onto the street: it came out red. He should've felt angry, but really, he was just empty and tired. "I told you I don't have any money."

Just as a spark of something like recognition entered Miguel's eyes, a rough baritone sounded to their left. "What are you two kids doing?"

Miguel and Tulio turned their heads simultaneously to see three guards eyeing them-the one that spoke eyed the nearly empty cap and strewn pesetas beside them. He frowned. "Stealing, are we?"

The two guards behind him began to draw their swords.

Miguel gave a look of indignation, clearly not grasping the danger they were in. "Hey, for your information, I…"

"Said we would split it fifty-fifty!" Tulio cut in. The guards looked at him questioningly, while Miguel looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"What!?" Miguel nearly shrieked.

Tulio took Miguel's shock as the opportunity needed to push him off. Miguel stumbled back as Tulio stood up.

"Yeah, after we robbed that stand, you said we would split the loot down the middle," Tulio exclaimed, appearing to get more and more worked up. "But then you have to go and be _selfish,_ " Tulio shouted, grabbing a still in shock Miguel by the collar.

"Just play along," he quickly whispered. As he stepped back, he saw realization dawn in Miguel's eyes.

"Well, I did most of the work, you scoundrel!" Miguel spat, giving him a shove.

"That's because you're a glory hound!" Tulio retorted, shoving back, harder and changing their positions so they were nearing the edge of the now-forming crowd.

"Are you calling me a dog, sir?"

Shove.

"No, my good man-dogs make useful companions: an occupation you are unfit for!"

Shove.

More insults and more shoves abounded until they were past the ring of onlookers. Finally, when they were a safe enough distance away, Tulio gave a nod which Miguel returned, and they ran.

The brown, grainy streets of Madrid blurred by as they ran, Miguel's laugh ringing in Tulio's ear as he felt a smile form on his face.

Eventually they both tired, only stopping once they entered a sufficiently abandoned country road. They both slumped over. Tulio bent over his knees, heart still racing. He was still smiling.

"Well, that was a frantic chase," Tulio deadpanned.

"What a crazy ride!" Miguel responded, laying down on the ground, so apparently carefree; Tulio envied him a bit for that.

"I've never done anything like that before!" Miguel exclaimed, eyes closed, the largest smile ever plastered on his face as his chest rose up and down in exhaustion. "I don't think I've ever been in that much trouble before, and you!..."

Miguel's eyes suddenly opened, the smile dissipating from his face. He gave a hard stare in Tulio's direction. Tulio felt his own smile give way.

"You!" Miguel started, pointing an accusatory finger up at Tulio. "You _stole_ from me!"

Tulio forced his face to go blank. "Well, in my defense, I am a poor, starving orphan," he offered bluntly.

"So am I!" Miguel retorted.

Tulio stiffened at that; sometimes he forgot there were others like him, with his sole focus being on his own survival. He sighed.

"Look, I'm…I'm sorry," Tulio said.

Miguel raised a skeptical brow.

Tulio shuffled for a bit, uncomfortable. His hand brushed his pocket-he felt the apple he had pocketed earlier. Tulio pulled the fruit out: it had a bite taken out of it and a few bruises, but it was still good.

"Here," Tulio said, bending down and offering the apple to Miguel. Hesitantly, the blond took it, continuing to eye Tulio skeptically.

"I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but it's all I have," Tulio offered lamely.

At that, Miguel gave him a small smile and took a bite of the apple, humming his appreciation.

With no other idea of what to do, Tulio sat down next to him.

"So, how long have you been on your own?" Tulio asked.

Miguel stopped eating, looked down at the dirt. "About a month," he replied.

Tulio started at that. He remembered the fresh pain in the weeks after his mother's death. "I'm…sorry."

Miguel chuckled. "You say that a lot: 'I'm sorry.'"

"I usually don't," Tulio responded.

Miguel looked at him, a small, sad glint in his eye that spoke of recognition. "What about you, how long have you been on the streets?"

Tulio felt his mouth twist. "About two years."

Miguel looked down, took another bite of the apple.

Tulio fidgeted. "You're a really good player…err, musician, you know."

The smile came back to Miguel's face. "I know," he chimed.

Tulio laughed at that, then sobered up. "If I could play like you, I wouldn't have to steal."

Miguel's face scrunched up in consideration. "There has to be something you're good at," he said.

Tulio considered. "I can dance," he offered.

Miguel's smile returned full force. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Tulio responded, smiling back. "But I never have any music to dance to."

Miguel took another bite of the apple, finally finishing it off. "Well, you could dance with me."

Tulio's eyebrows rose.

Miguel seemed to catch himself, as his face went sort of blank. "No, not like that! I mean, I could play the music, and you could dance! We could perform together, so that way we could both make money."

Tulio startled. That was one heck of a proposition, especially considering he had tried to rob Miguel.

He took a minute to just sit there and absorb everything. An hour ago, he didn't even know Miguel, and now the blond was offering him a partnership of sorts. Either the kid was incredibly opportunistic and forward, or unbelievably naïve. Maybe both. Probably both.

The sunlight filtering through the trees got into Tulio's eyes. The sun was setting, but the light was right in his line of vision. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes. The last thing he saw was the light glinting off Miguel's golden hair.

After a moment, Tulio lowered his hands, opening his eyes to look at Miguel.

"Alright," he said.

Miguel beamed, holding out his hand.

"Partner?" he asked.

Tulio only hesitated for a second before placing his hand in Miguel's. "Partner."

After their handshake, they both stood up and made their way down the road together in search of a place to rest for the night. For the first time ever, Tulio felt that not only could he survive, but he could thrive.

 **A/N: Well, that's my interpretation of how they met! I have a few ideas in mind for stories with these two involving the early years of their partnership, one of which is a good deal more mature than this one-hint hint. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me know what you thought of this story and if you want to read more!**


End file.
